***
GeneralOberst! Johannes Blaskowitz leaves his First Army headquarters to take over his new command—Armeegruppe G. He is succeeded by General Joachim Lemelsen.3
***
Oberst!leutnant Helmuth Meyer, the Fifteenth Army Intelligence Officer, is sitting in his office in Tourcoing, going over intelligence summaries of the latest enemy radio interceptions. Meyer, a short slim, thin-lipped 37-year-old officer, believes now more than ever that the efforts of counterintelligence units in the Wehrmacht are too often overlooked. He certainly believes that now as he reads the latest reports in front of him.
Meyer over many months had put together a tight little interception unit of some thirty men. His NAST4 command had set up their headquarters close to von Salmuth’s main command center in Tourcoing, near Lille. Meyer had trained these men in radio intercepts, and over the last few months, his men had made a concerted effort to gather every scrap of intelligence that they could so that they might deduce when and where the invasion would take place. All possible messages have been monitored, civilian and military. He even has had his men listen in on radio traffic between enemy jeeps and trucks across the Channel. And to be thorough, he has kept his men working in shifts to make sure all hours of the day are covered.
He fervently hopes that he has a better handle than most on when the invasion might occur. Von Salmuth himself has told him that the entire army group is counting on him, especially since (at least as far as he knows) his unit is the only special radio intercept signals center on the coast. Seventh Army does not have one, and he does not think Heeresgruppe B or even OB West has one either, testimony to the lack of importance the generals place on counterintelligence. And so, if for some reason his unit misses a vital message, it might prove disastrous for the whole army.
The problem of course, is to figure out which few intercepts are authentic and which are decoys, which is clearly most of them. Meyer though, is concentrating more than anything on one specific coded broadcast. A two-part coded message taken from the French poet Paul Verlaine is, according to the Abwehr, supposed to be the trigger signal. They had warned Meyer months ago that transmission of this poem would activate Resistance units for the invasion.
The first verse of the poem “Chanson d’Automne” was to be the key:
Les sanglots longs des violons de l’automne,
Blessent mon coeur d’une langueur monotone.5
The first line of the verse was supposedly to be transmitted on the 1st or 15th of the month in which the invasion was to take place. It would mean that the invasion would start within the next seven days. The second line when transmitted meant that the invasion would come within 48 hours. Meyer of course fervently hoped that the Abwehr intelligence was valid.
Unfortunately, the Abwehr was gone now, and High Command had little faith in Meyer’s conclusions at this point, though they did appreciate his efforts. The problem, they explained, was mostly that there had been so many messages broadcast by the Allies over the last few months. They had all but given up any hope of their intelligence picking out any critical information. So many of the phrases made absolutely no sense; messages like “Jean sees no rain,” or “Napoleon throws his hat,” or “Tomorrow’s molasses will bring cognac.” What was authentic, and what was not?
But Meyer is pretty sure about the Verlaine coded phrase. He has always trusted Canaris, and now has come to believe that when those specific verses are transmitted, the balloon will soon go up.
God help him, though, if he ends up wrong.
Today, Prime Minister Churchill discusses several matters in a conference with the prime ministers of the Dominion. At one point, he reflects on the upcoming invasion and “the great operations which are pending. “ He tells them if Overlord fails:
We must either set our teeth and prepare for a longer war, or else reduce the severity of the terms which we are prepared to offer the enemy.
He knows full well which of the two he would prefer. Hitler on the other hand, would welcome the other.
1Forces Françaises de l’Intérieur—the organized, main component of the French Resistance.
2Even though he was a field marshal, Rommel always adhered to the wartime measure of not making any personal phone calls to Germany before 8 p.m.
3Fifty-five-year-old General der Panzertruppen Joachim Hermann August Lemelsen. An artilleryman in World War I, Lemelsen had after the war transferred to tanks and commanded the 5th Panzer Division in the French campaign. When Russia was invaded in 1941, Lemelsen commanded the XLIV Motorized Infantry Corps (redesignated a panzer corps June 1942). At best an average commander and reportedly easily depressed, he nevertheless led his corps at Kursk in 1943. His units suffered heavily in the battle, and as a result, he undertook questionable retreats back to the Dnieper River to recover. With this tarnish on his record, his corps had been transferred to Heeresgruppe Süd in September, and Lemelsen was transferred to the Italian Theater in November.
Lemelsen’s command of the First Army would be short-lived. One month later, just before D-Day, he would be replaced by General der Infanterie Kurt von der Chevallerie on June 4. Lemelsen was captured on May 2, 1945, and imprisoned as a POW until his release in October 1947, whereupon he turned state’s witness and testified against Albert Kesselring at Nuremberg.
4Nachrichtenstelle: Radio Intelligence Department.
5“The long sobs of the violins of autumn; Wound my heart with monotonous languor.” According to most authoritative sources, including Martin Gilbert (D-Day), the Verlaine code was in truth only targeted for one Resistance command network, code name “Ventriloquist,” which operated just south of the city of Orléans. The Abwehr, not knowing specifically who the two-part message was for, misunderstood it to be a general call to all the Resistance and Maquis units in France. Still, they were correct in concluding that its transmission did tie in to the timing of the invasion itself, and so who the message was for was, in the end, irrelevant if the coded implication was correct.
Thursday, May 4
General Guderian is still touring panzer units in France. Today he is with the newly reformed 10th Panzer Division near Bordeaux. Unbeknown to him, his trip is being followed by the Allies via Ultra communications intercepts.
***
The weather is bad today. Rommel stays at his headquarters and starts catching up on paperwork. There is some action upriver: the bridges at Mantes are attacked again by Jabos. He takes some time off to wander up to the Grand Hall of the castle and join his staff outside as they watch the enemy make bomb runs on the spans over the river.
He finally drifts back inside and tackles some administrative details. OB West wants a couple of smoke-launching units placed further inland than Rommel wanted. More hassles...
Not much new in the local daily reports. Good news though, comes in from the High Command. One report states that the Führer, still believing Normandy to be a likely invasion target, has decided that the 91st Luftlande1 Division, one of the few divisions left in the OKW strategic reserve, has been ordered to Normandy. Additionally, the 2. Fallschirmjäger Division, now in Russia, has been ordered to the West as well. It is scheduled to begin moving into the Seventh Army area. One of its regiments, the 6. Fallschirmjäger, is to deploy in Normandy, near St. Lô
Today Rommel asks OKW to ask Reichsmarschall Göring for some anti-aircraft batteries. Specifically, he wants the III Flak Corps, which consists of four powerful regiments. Rommel wants to put them between the Vire and the Orne Rivers, to cover air assaults or bombing raids occurring there.
By now, Rommel’s routine at the château is set. The meals taken with his staff are nearly always enjoyable, the dinners the best. Knowing his twelve staff officers’ desire for his presence, the field marshal usually attends the evening meal. This is a change of habit for him; in Africa he had always dined in his van alone with his aide. The change he feels, is a positive one, because he meshes better with his staff. Table discussions are pretty much free
and open, and anything broached can be debated without pressure.
Naturally, they often have guests, and usually the menu and wine lists are modified accordingly, although Rommel seldom consumes alcohol. He does have an occasional drink, but he never lets himself get sloshed. Usually, one or two glasses of wine is fine for him although, to the dismay of some of his more refined officers, he usually waters them down.
He usually shows little interest in food, but he does enjoy vegetables, usually spinach, beans, and endive salads. Company notwithstanding, Rommel insists that his diet generally be simple and plain. He does not want to be branded as a lavish, out-of-touch commander (like Jodl had accused von Rundstedt of being in January). This unfortunately gives his cuisine officer problems. The man had been a gourmet chef at a renowned hotel before the war, and Rommel’s directives towards simplicity do not let him show off his talents as often as he would like. And yet, the boss at times does let him do his thing, especially when VIPs visit. The resulting, opulent courses often delight his staff, used to eating plain and simple.
When guests do visit, Rommel tries to keep the number down, usually to no more than two. Rommel finally revealed his reason to his staff in late April, when a staff member suggested inviting several guests over in a big group. Rommel had replied, “No, this will only lead to superficial discussions. I want to work on everybody individually; only this will bring results.” Even then, very special fanfares were as a rule not made for callers; still, they usually enjoyed their stay.
Naturally, the field marshal always sits at the head of his dinner table, with Admiral Ruge to his right (unless they have a guest), and the chief of staff to his left. Manners at the table are usually relaxed. Rommel never smokes, but prides himself on allowing others to do so. Table talk is usually lively. He enjoys humorous stories, and has that rare ability (especially for a German general) of being able to laugh at jokes directed at him. But he does not tolerate dirty jokes. He is not a prig, but he deems such stories inappropriate, especially at mealtime. Thus, it has become an unspoken rule that off-color stories are not to be told at his dinner table.2
As a good host, Rommel does not as a habit try to dominate the conversation. He found out long ago that it pays to be a good listener, whether with his staff or with a guest visiting for the evening. He is open-minded, and any positive suggestions brought up at the table are discussed. If they are worth the effort, he makes sure that he or someone else follows up on them.
Rommel often follows dinner with a walk around the château, sometimes with Speidel, Ruge, or even Lang. They might chat about something that has come up that day. Sometimes, the field marshal reminisces about earlier (and happier) times. During his strolls, one of the field marshal’s favorite places to stop is between two huge cedar trees. The trees give him a feeling of strength, serenity, and security, and the spot offers a magnificent view of the Seine valley and the sky to the west.
Although he usually retires around 11 p.m., he sometimes sits up with the Duc at night, making small talk over a rare drink.
This evening at dinner, Rommel, in good humor, tells more stories of his youth—this time, his hectic days as a lieutenant.
He writes to his wife around ten that night:
Dearest Lu:
Last night I came back from a long trip and called you right away. Too bad that Ajax is dead, but he was not so hot anyway.
“Ebbo”as Günther calls him, is too cute. You should have seen how happy he was when I came back. Of course he is still very playful and when he madly chases through the room trying to move forward but can’t because he slips on the parquet floor, it just about kills me…
1“Air Landing.” An air-lifted division in which most of the men and equipment, unlike an airborne or parachute unit, come in by glider, including a few medium weapons such as light artillery, as well as some small vehicles.
2Once Rommel, on an inspection tour along the coast, had sat down for a repast in the nearby officer mess. As they were being served, one unfortunate unit commander began to recount an immodest anecdote. He had just started his story, and had told just enough to let everyone know that it was off-color. Glancing at the field marshal, he felt a cold chill coming from Rommel’s eyes. It stopped the man dead in his tale. He was very quiet the rest of the meal.
Friday, May 5
The weather is still rainy. Generalfeldmarschall Rommel and his staff spend the day tending to administrative details. Some of the officers have to go into the French capital and call on various commands there.1
Rommel himself has a briefing with several officers on losing offshore obstacles. Several are being destroyed or rendered ineffective. Many of the wooden ones and a few of the metal ones are washing up in the surf, or are drifting out with the tide, or are simply falling apart. Some are losing the mines attachéd to their tops, and many of these mines are becoming waterlogged and rendered useless. Other obstacles are just a lot of trouble and time to install.2
Rommel patiently tells them about the benefits of these barriers. That includes the psychological effect, both on the enemy, and on their own troops. Heaven knows, the defenders do not have much else to go on. Many are in isolated, exposed positions, facing a potentially overwhelming enemy. Their own navy consists of a few small patrol vessels, while the Allies are amassing a huge fleet. And in the air—well, the current joke is, if you see it flying in the daytime, it’s American; if you hear it at night, it’s British, and if you do not hear or see it at all, it is the Luftwaffe. What makes the joke worse is that the Luftwaffe would be the first to admit its truth, with an “oh-well” attitude. So the barriers are a way of giving the defenders some comfort and self-reliance.
After the meeting, General Speidel gets on the phone with the commander of the 309th Artillery Regiment about where to position a couple launcher brigades in the Loire River valley.
Word comes in that Naval Group West has granted permission to move two naval training units in Holland further forward. A small victory at last for the Army on this issue.3 On another matter, Rommel turns down a suggestion from Fifteenth Army that Luftwaffe senior officers inspect and evaluate the anti-airborne landing obstacles, such as the “asparagus.” He wants his staff to retain that right. He also rejects a proposal by Seventh Army General Dollmann that Straube’s 74th Corps be moved from Brittany to Normandy.
Around noontime, Rommel receives a visit from a war correspondent, Lutz Koch.4 He had been attachéd to the Africa Korps in 1942, rolling with them back and forth across the desert. He had periodically sent out news communiqués about their victories, receiving high praise from the Reich propaganda ministry, especially for his exciting eyewitness broadcast about the fall of Tobruk in late June of that year. Now he is ushered into the field marshal’s study. As he looks around at the famous ornate tapestries and lavish furnishings of the historic room, he contrasts them with the simple, sandy, spartan tent that they had lived in when they had been in the harsh, North African desert.
Rommel, surmising what Koch is thinking, smiles smugly. “It’s more gemütlich here, isn’t it, than at Tobruk or El Alamein?”
Koch smiles back and replies, “Jawohl, Feldmarschall, but the worries are probably still the same, aren’t they?”
“Und ob!” Rommel chuckles.
Koch looks up again at the tapestry over Rommel’s desk, which had once hung behind Louis XIV when he had signed the famous Edict of Nantes in the seventeenth century. They walk over to the terrace doors and gaze out at the peaceful-looking river, while Elbo happily prances around at their feet. They observe the scenic springtime colors, the cherry blossoms decorating the trees in the distance. Below them, Rommel’s rose buds are starting to bloom.
“La douce France,” Koch observes. Rommel agrees.
Koch notices that little Elbo has acquired a larger companion, a hound dog.
“That’s Treff,” Rommel tells him. “The OT gave him to me.”5
Koch smiles back and then returns his gaze to the love
ly green countryside.
Rommel sighs, and murmurs, “I love this country.”
After a pause, Koch asks him, “And how do things look here on the Atlantic Wall?”
Rommel’s face turns serious. “That only exists on the Channel coast. But it’s a sure thing that they won’t come there.”
He starts to relate the enormity of the job that he has been given. He concludes, “I had to improvise everywhere, in order to somehow protect the coast and to add some depth to the defenses. I’m having everything mined and wired. Piles are being driven into the sea offshore, and other obstacles are being built in, loaded with some unpleasant surprises.”
He shakes his head. “But a wall it isn’t—not a visible wall. I know that full well...” He turns to Koch. “Remember Tobruk? I knew I’d get away with that. But several months later, in the El Alamein position, I also realized that the battle for Africa had been lost. If you ask me now what my feelings about the situation are, I’m telling you: I’m having premonitions of bad things to come.”
They talk some more about the war, and Rommel’s pessimistic feelings come out, especially regarding the invasion of the Soviet Union, which deprived him of so many men and supplies that he had desperately needed to ultimately defeat the British in North Africa. Just a few divisions would have made the difference. And it now seems to be a fateful decision that will in the end cost them the war. Near the end of their talk, he says sadly, “If only Hitler had never started the war against Russia. That was his gravest political and military mistake. Today, this war has long passed its zenith.”
He pauses and adds, “Let’s hope that we shall get out of it decently and honorably.” But in his heart, he doubts that they will.
Today the Führer at his noontime war conference again brings up the subject of an invasion in the West, and again mentions his concerns over Normandy, especially the threat that would bring to Cherbourg. Despite some misgivings by Jodl, Hitler tells him to again call Blumentritt at OB West and stress the strong possibility of Normandy being the location for the upcoming enemy invasion. Special efforts should be made to strengthen the area without committing OKW reserves.
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